It Happened Before when Sam was four
by maaldas
Summary: After Sam's meltdown at the end of 'Repo Man', the only thing keeping him grounded is Dean's touch. He literally needs skin-to-skin contact with his brother all the time; anything more than half a minute without it and the hellfire starts to sizzle. Written for spnkink meme at livejournal.
1. It Happened Before, When Sam Was Four

**Note**: This is my first time writing Sam/Dean because I'm afraid I don't do Dean's voice justice. He's so hard to write. *banging head* I don't know how long this fic is gonna be because, seriously, the muse is kinda touch and go for this one. (That's other words for I need lots of support).

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**It happened before (when Sam was four)**

It reminds him of the time when Sam was four years old. He was barely nine at the time but even then he had done things that no other nine years old ever dream of thinking. At nine, he already knew how to handle firearms, clean them and shoot them with precision each time. He knew how to cook a meager dinner, wash his family laundry in a Laundromat, take care of his little brother and basically being a good kid. It was quite a feat for a nine years old because Sam was annoying when he was four, moreover, when he got whiny and clingy.

It happened during one of dad's hunts. They were staying in a motel room for the last few weeks and dad had gone for the night promising to return in the next two days. Sam had spent the previous night watching horror movie, courtesy of Dean, and got one hell of a nightmare for it. He clung to Dean like a limpet for the rest of two days until dad got back. He won't go anywhere without Dean, even dragged him to the bathroom every time he needed a wee much to the exasperation of his big brother. But then, Sam would look up at him with his puppy-dog eyes and said, "but I'm scared Dean," and Dean was doomed.

Yet, the truth is that taking care of Sam is pretty much the only thing Dean knows how to do best. So, when Sam's wall broke down a year ago, he knew he was the only one who could get through to his little brother. Now, come hell fire and high water, if the only thing that can keep Sam sane is him then he swears he will get Sam through it.

Dean is driving along the interstate road with Sam's head on his lap because he is tired reaching out across the seat. This way, he can drive safely without worrying over his brother's mental health. Sam is sleeping right now with his right cheek plastered to his stomach's skin. Dean has to lift up his shirt up for that and Sam has to fold his giant body such a way in order to fit inside the car's too small space. It makes Dean missing the impala all the more. His baby sure can accommodate both of them better. Of all the craziness that happened upon them, this is definitely the most odd. They don't get touchy feely with each other except the occasional hugs when the other is near death or just back from death. So, the past three days really treads on Dean's comfort level.

Dean blames the Devil. If he could he would go back down to hell and stab the bastard with angel sword repeatedly until he is satisfied. He is sure that what Sam sees are all only left over memories of hell but damn that snake tongued son of a bitch for playing his brother like this as if he still has a hold of him somehow. It is all started three days ago in a motel room after they ganked that psycho in Idaho.

o

Dean startles awake by the sound of crashing. He looks around the dark motel room only to find Sam trashing around on the floor between their beds with both arms bleeding.

"Shit!" He jumps down on the floor immediately, grabbing his brother's shirt, calling his name with panic clear in his voice. "Sammy! … Sam, please stay with me,…. Sammy!"

Sam is curl up on the floor with eyes close and all of his muscles pulled tight. He grits his teeth together while tremors run amok throughout his body. Dean grabs him tight, turning him over on his back and straddles his waist. Then he held Sam's face with both hand, pleading to his brother to open his eyes. "Sammy, come on open your eyes, man. It's me…. come on, Sam, snap out of it. Come on…"

Dean feels Sam's body starts to loosen up after a while and the next seconds he opens his eyes much to Dean's relieve.

"Sam? …. You with me?" Dean looks into Sam's dazed eyes with worry mars his face, deepening his age line.

"'s nt workin'….'s nt workin …" mumbles Sam repeatedly.

"What's not working? Sam, what're you talking about?" asks Dean, frantic but Sam ignores him. He keeps mumbling it over and over again until Dean gets a good look on both his arms that are bleeding from several slice wounds.

"What the …" Dean grabs one of Sam's bleeding arms and inspects his wound. "What the hell did you do, man?" whispers Dean horrified before he makes a quick work on lifting Sam's giant limp body off the floor to the bed and getting the med kit.

He cleans Sam's wound carefully, three slices on left arm and two on right arm, cauterizes them then rolls bandages on them. He goes a little overboard with them so that his brother looks a bit like a mummy but Sam is not aware the whole time. He just looks up the stained ceiling quietly and not even flinches when Dean tends to his wounds.

"Sam?" Dean touches his brother's wide chest and scrutinizes his lack face for any sign of coherence. "Hey, man, you're there? ... Can you look at me, Sam?"

Sam slowly shifts his eyes to look at Dean's worried ones then whispers, "he won't go away, Dean."

"Who won't go…" Dean puts on a confused look before the fog clears away and he finally gets it. "You mean _him_? the Devil?"

"Usually, when I press on the wound in my palm he goes away but not now. Now, he is back for good. I dunno how to …. how …." Sam sends a pained look at his big brother, pleading him to help him because he is lost on what to do.

"And you cut yourself because of it?" Dean is feeling outrage partly on Sam's stubbornness in keeping it from him. He is angry because Sam chooses to hurt himself than wake him. "You should've woken me up, Sam!"

Dean goes to pack up their med kit and put it in their supplies bag.

"How did it happen, anyway? I thought you said you've got it under control. How did he get passed your wall?"

Sam does not answer. Instead, he turns his face away from his brother to stare at the wall. Dean stands up and comes near the foot of Sam's bed. His face is pinched with worry and the muscle in his jaw rippling as his anxiety rises up.

"D'you see him, now?"

Sam shakes his head slowly while still facing the wall. Dean knows that his brother is hiding something. Judging from the shifty eyes and the way he won't look at him in the eyes tells Dean that this something must involves him. Dean is determined to get to the bottom if this, even if he has to hang the little bitch upside down to spill the beans.

Dean has to sigh to that. This is why he always shies away from any 'chick-flick' moment of any kinds because he knows that dealing with Sam always exhausts him emotionally. He does not need anymore drama from other people.

"A'right, I'll get some coffee and …. You stay right here!" Dean points his finger at his brother with the most seriousness he can muster. "Ya hear me, Sam? I mean it. Don't get out of the room. Don't … don't' even get out of bed!"

Dean quickly walks out of the room with a sole intention to get back as soon as possible because last experiences has proven that he cannot leave Sam alone. Who knows where his brother will ends up this time if he takes another imaginary trip with the Devil. Little does he know that Sam's tremors are restarting again once he clears the door.

o

Dean returns five minutes later with two cups of hot coffees. It is still too early to buy anything else so he settles for it right now.

"Sam?"

Dean closes the door and put the coffees on top of the table while looking around the room for his brother. The beds are empty. He makes a circle around the room before going to the bathroom. The door only opens few inches despite Dean's insistent pushing. Looking down he sees stray hairs on the bathroom floor just behind the door.

Dean crouches down and thrusts his hand between the spaces of the barely opened door to touch Sam's hair. "Sam, can you move?" asks Dean. "I can't open the door, man. You gotta move so I can get in."

Sam's head jerks up when Dean touches it then there is a slight motion of pushing into his hand which makes it difficult for Dean to move his brother away from behind the door.

"Come on, you gotta move, buddy."

Dean rubs Sam's head for few seconds just like when they were kids and he was trying to coax a sulking Sam into cooperation. Usually it did not end well since Sam hates being treated like a child even when he was still a child but now Sam's lack of reaction worries him immensely. He does not know what happens to Sam behind the door. Does he cut his hands again or does he do things more horrible this time?

Dean tries pushing the door again and this time it gives, though only slightly but enough for him to peek inside. He slides his head between the gap and peek at his brother. Seeing Sam curling naked on his side with his back to the door making Dean's eyebrows raised. He quickly pulls his head out and pushes the door stronger with both hands pushing the base, moving Sam with it. Once he makes enough gaps to slide his whole body he crawls in and kneels in front of Sam.

Sam lets out a quiet whimper just before Dean touches his cheek. Both his palms planted firmly on his ears as if to block a sound out.

"Sammy, … come on you can't sleep on the floor naked. Get up, now."

Dean grasps Sam's hand off his ear and cradles his brother's head with his left before looping his arm under Sam's armpit to help him up. Sam clutches Dean's shirt tightly as his big brother shuffles both of them out of the small bathroom.

"Fuck, you're heavy," grouses Dean. "Can't believe salad gives you this much weight. Why do you naked, anyway? Gonna shower?"

Sam wraps his arms tightly around his brother's torso adding more pressure on his chest making him wheezing from exertion of carrying Sam's almost dead weight to the bed. He presses his face on Dean's shoulder. The word 'fire' mumbled onto Dean's shirt but Dean hears it anyway.

Prying Sam's hands off of him is another chore since the giant limpet won't loosen his hold on him until he gets dragged down on the bed next to Sam. A naked Sam. Somehow that fact disturbs him. It is true that he used to bath Sam when they were kids but that is the problem. It happened when they were kids. Granted they are already living in each other's pocket for their whole life, Sam's period of insanity when he ran away to Stanford does not count and the last year when he was stranded at Lisa's was only because soulless Sam was a jerk, and they have seen each other naked countless times but they have not sleep on the same bed since Sam was eight.

Dean struggles to get out of Sam's deadly grip but his little brother keeps dragging him back when he senses that Dean is getting away. "Are you gonna let me go sometime soon?" asks Dean to his brother who is still hanging onto him as if his whole life depends on it. An exasperation sigh sneaks out of his lungs.

Sam lets out another sound of distress that is more like a whine to Dean's ear. Dean gives up his effort to get up because Sam will just pull him back down.

"At least get under the blanket will you? I won't have you sick on top of this."

To Dean's surprise, Sam lets go one of his hands to blindly reach behind him for the blanket. Dean kicks off his boots on the floor and pulls the blanket on top of Sam as his brother curls beside him with face pressed firmly on his shoulder and both hands resume their hold around his torso.

"Coffee's gonna get cold," says Dean to no one particular and getting no response. He takes a deep breath and settling up for a couple hours of sleep since Sam is not inclined to get up anytime soon. He hopes his brother will get through this episode when they wake up later so they can get out of this town as soon as possible.

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Please review and tell me what you think. :D God? Bad? I'd like to hear it. :D


	2. Either It's Hero Worship or Obsession

**It happened before; Either It's Hero Worship or Obsession**

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Dean is always there when Sam needs him. Always. Sam remembers the time when he worshiped the ground his big brother walked on and always followed him around like a lost puppy, grating on Dean's nerves. Dean would bitch and moan but never shoved Sam away. Never.

It is as if there is some kind of a sixth sense that so very attunes to Sam's needs that whenever Sam needs something Dean will be there to provide or if it's out of his power to provide he will make sure that Sam needs are meet however it takes. It is as if Dean's sole purpose in life is taking care of Sam. Sam thought that his 4 years away at Stanford has brought Dean out of that habit but no, they met up and fell into the same routine as if the last four years was nothing but a dream.

At the time, Sam is just grateful. Losing Jessica like that made him stop thinking about selfishness and just soaked up to Dean's nurturing attention. Thinking back on the way they were raised there are not many things in his life that Sam is grateful for except Dean. He is very grateful that God made Dean to be his brother because he knows he cannot ask for a better one. Dean has that Hero complex going strong in his veins. More than anything, he has a caretaker complex that he pours most of it on Sam. That is why it is not a surprise that when his wall came down, Dean would be the one who can get through to the hell madness running amok inside his head.

The first stone is Dean and so is the second, the third and fourth and so on and so forth until Sam got the whole foundation of Dean that scream family, love, loyalty, devotion, love, honesty, bravery, love,…

Once, the honesty stone crumbled and Sam was spinning out of track for a week until he was forced to realize that he could not do it alone. It was the very reason why he was able to get out of Bobby's panic room a year ago; because his brother needs him and because they need each other. It is simply the basic formula of their life. They are Sam and Dean, heart and soul, body and mind. They cannot exist without the other. As fucked up as it sounds, it has been their life for many years. Yes, they are heavily, utterly, fully damn cursed.

So, truthfully, Sam was glad that he stumbled upon his brother when they were investigating a case in that psychic town. It's about time. Sam probably will not tell Dean about it but a couple of days longer he would definitely break. He even managed to find that honesty stone again and started to build on it immediately, adding trust stone on top of it, then family then love which are all of them originated from Dean. He supposes that he will need to grab hold on his brother again tighter this time around because, seriously, Luci is enjoying it a lot more than he ought to.

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The sun has climbed high the next time Dean greets the waking world. Turning to his right he finds his brother sitting on the edge of his bed, fully clothed and eyes glued to the computer screen on his lap. After doing some stretching, he slowly gets up on the bed, rubbing at his eyes with his left hand and slurring, "'time 's it?"

"Oh, you're awake," says Sam, eagerness colors his voice. Dean glimpses a movement from his right side and just in time to see Sam snatches his right hand back up. He looks at his own right hand and frowns. Did Sam hold his hand while he slept?

"Dude, did you just-"

"Alright!" Sam quickly closes his computer's lid and stands up. "Let's roll! We've been spending too much time in this town."

Dean looks up at him, studying the way his brother is nervously standing beside his bed, squirmy and twitchy. He won't stand still even for a second. "You a'right?" inquires Dean, concern showed on his face.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Sam's exaggerated nods are actually the one that tips him off as something not as fine as Sam claims it is.

"You sure?" Dean pushes on, "'Cause few hours ago you're like-"

"No, no, I'm fine, now. Really Dean."

"Sam listen," Dean starts as he is getting up off bed to stand in front of his agitated little brother. "You've been feeding me that crap ever since your wall went down and I keep seeing you falling down to pieces. Literally. So, you better be honest with me here because this morning was one hell of a scare, dude."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right-"

"…and I don't believe jack shit that it goes away with a couple of hours rest," continues Dean despite his brother's interruption. "I'm tired of seeing the other shoe keeps falling, alright!"

Sam looks like truly chastised right now. He shifts his eyes away from Dean and grits his teeth making his jaws muscles rippling uncomfortably. Dean lifts up his right hand gesturing to his brother's bandaged arms saying, "you definitely don't look okay man," in a pinched expression.

Dean is a little surprised when Sam snatches his outstretched hand so quickly.

"You're right, Dean. I'm not okay. Never have been but … can we just… get out of this town first?" begs Sam with puppy dog eyes in full force. After all this time, Dean can never build his defenses against those.

With a small sigh he relents. "Okay, I'll round up the room. You pack our bags."

"I've already packed them. We're ready to go."

Dean looks at Sam for a few seconds then looks at his hand being held by Sam's enormous one for few seconds more before raising his eyebrows in puzzlement. "Great! Just wait in the car then. I'll make a quick round."

"Okay," says Sam with another nod of his head and yet, he has not let go of Dean's hand. Instead, he seems to be fixated on it.

Seriously, this new development of Sam's behavior starts to creeps him out a little. He knows for a long time, ever since they were little, that his brother is weird but he is used to it and even thinking fondly of it sometimes. So, maybe this is just another of Sam's weird quirk that he also has to get used to.

"Sam?"

Dean jerks their hands apart and that snaps his brother out of whatever secret of the universe he delved into. Man, this is getting weirder and weirder as the day goes on. Perhaps it is this town that is giving off some kind of weird vibe. Ever since they stepped in it, weird shit keeps happening. They really need to haul ass out of there quickly.

Sam keeps following Dean around during the two minutes that it takes for Dean to make sure that their motel room is clean of their traces. Wouldn't want another clone running around the street, would we? After another two minutes is spent of returning their room keys and flirting with the cute girl behind the counter, Dean is finally behind the wheel speeding along the almost quiet road. He keeps stealing glances to his right as Sam won't stop fidgeting beside him ever since they drive out of that motel's parking lot. As they are passing through the town's border his squirming is getting worse accompanied by sharp jerks and erratic breathing. He also keeps looking around the car with tight lips and deep frown.

Dean spies his brother form the corner of his eyes. "Sam, you alright?" he reaches out his right hand to touch Sam's shoulder. "Hey, look at me!" Dean's hand creeps onto the back of Sam's neck forcing his brother to look at him. Sam's feature screams panic and terror and Dean is sure he sees a flash of something red and burning in his eyes which of course sending all kinds of alarm bells clanking in his mind.

"I…" Sam stammers pitifully.

"Why don't you get some sleep? Obviously, you still not fine… and don't argue with me!" Dean snaps at him when Sam tries to say something.

"Okay," whispers Sam, nodding gratefully at Dean. His brother is visibly calmed down as he reaches up to hold Dean's wrist in his hand. He closes his eyes for few seconds before letting Dean withdraws his hand although he follows the retreating hand with some kind of a longing expression on his face but Dean cannot process what that means right now. He can only collect all the signals and information that Sam unconsciously let out about the depth of his sufferings. He promises himself, though, that he will park the car in front of the first motel that they find when they have passed at least two towns over and grill his brother for the truth. Sam is stubborn in keeping secrets but it is something that they really cannot afford right now. The Leviathan is out to get them and they have successfully infiltrated the country even more effectively than the demons.

Dean lets out a small relieve sigh when he sees Sam slumped down on the seat next to him with his left cheek plastered on the leather back rest. He considers putting something on the cassette player but too worried that it will mess with Sam's head so he settles on for humming instead.

The road is fairly quiet except for occasional one or two cars passing by. Dean chooses to take the back roads of a very small town in order to get to the border of the next town. He drives as fast as he can because ten minutes after falling asleep, Sam starts mumbling and whimpering beside him. His fist curled tight on his lap and his muscles tensed. When the whimpers are getting louder, Dean calls out to him in an effort to wake his brother up from whatever nightmare that seizes him.

"Sammy," calls out Dean, laying his palm on top of Sam's head to shake him up, alternating his concentration between the road and his sleeping brother. "Sam, wake up!" But Sam stays asleep although his whimpering is slowly lessening as long as Dean keeps his hand on him. He waits until Sam looks calm down enough before releasing him. Sam stays calm for the next twenty miles and Dean sees a marker at the side of the road signaling that they have crossed another border and into the next town.

They have been heading south ever since they clear the border of Coeur d'Alene and now they have reached Winchester. Dean intents to just skip pass this town but his stomach has been grumbling ever since half an hour ago. So, he decides to look for a diner to fill their stomach first before thinking on the next move. He is contemplating whether to call Frank again or just do the research on his own. Usually they have a kind of system between him and Sam. He will obsessed on Dick while Sam will look into their next hunt or whatever weird shit gotten printed on the morning newspaper. Considering recent development on his brother's sanity, Dean doubts if he even wants to go on the next hunt. He cannot afford Sam falling apart in the middle of a hunt.

Speaking of Sam, he feels that his brother is waking up. A low moan reaches Dean's ears first before the rustling sound of clothes scrapping leather. Dean stays quiet, only watching his brother from his peripheral view. He knows that Sam is fully awake by now because Sam's eyes snapped open suddenly with a gasp and he hold himself rigid next to Dean. He looks around the car with a nervous jitter and starts slapping the leather seat with his palm. Soon, he is rubbing the dashboard and slapping the window, mumbling something under his breath.

"Sam? What are you doing?" asks Dean but his brother seems to not hear him.

Somehow, the view from outside the window frightened him because the next minute he jumps in surprise and scoots closer to Dean in a jerky movement while gasping for breath.

"What? W…what's it?" asks Dean in panic. He looks through the window at Sam's side but only sees the same side view of plain field and occasional lone houses scattered along the side road. Nothing weird or strange but Sam is whimpering now and that scares Dean.

"Dean… Dean…" Sam looks around the car, calling out to Dean in a frantic voice before suddenly he grabs the wheel and pulls it sharply to the right screaming, "look out!"

Dean frantically hits the break and clutch pedal while fighting to take back the wheel control from Sam making the tires screeching loudly and the car slumped onto the dirt road forcefully spiting gravel and dust around them. They almost hit a tree if only Dean acts too late.

"God Damn it, Sam!" curses Dean as he shifts the gear into neutral then grabs Sam's shirt with both hands, pressing his brother's back to the backrest. "What's wrong with you?" Dean growls at Sam. His face is contorted in anger, lips thin and jaws clenched. His eyes' roaming Sam's shaken face.

Sam's body is shaking in wild tremor now. He clutches Dean's arms tight, eyes pitiful and sad. He is gasping for breath as if he spent the last hour running and his lips are trembling. Dean soon loses steam until only concern left visible on his face. Sam gulps down his spit before stuttering in a low whisper. "T-t-t…there…re's … a car. An-n-nn…nn…eighteen wheel … wheeler. It's gonna … gonna hit … us."

Dean's face shifts into perplexed now. He looks closely at the state of his brother is in, trembling and frighten. Gone is the usually level headed man with Stanford smart reasoning and annoying smug. What left is Sammy, Dean's four years old little brother who was always crawling under his blanket at night, scared out of his wits. It finally hits Dean.

"What else d'you see, Sam?" asks Dean, voice strong and determined but he curbs it enough so it does not come out as anger. When refuses to answer he repeats it again. "I'm asking you, Sam. What else do you see?" He is wording it slowly as if talking to a real four years old.

Sam whimpers miserably under the strength of his big brother's gaze that Dean worries that he is going to cry soon. His eyes surely look watery.

"I'll keep asking even if you won't tell me. I mean it. We're not even gonna move from here unless you tell me what's going on inside your head because I don't want this happen again. We'll spend the night here if necessary but I'd rather we have a bed under our asses and warm shower the next morning. So, either you tell me now so I can kick your ass for almost getting us killed or I'll kick your ass later no matter what."

Dean clearly sees in Sam's eyes that his brother intents to hide his problem again but his resolve is getting weaker until Sam finally opens his mouth.

"I see him. All the time…and it all start coming back," Sam says. His voice breaks in the last words.

"By all, you mean … hell memories?" questions Dean and Sam does not need to answer it because Dean already knows. "Didn't I tell you that it's not real? Didn't I show you how to differentiate between what's real pain and what's not?"

"You did but … it doesn't work anymore because I let him in."

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Please Review... They feed my hungry soul :D


	3. This so called misery shaped hole

**Tittle**: It happened before, this so called misery shaped hole.

**Beta**: None – All mistakes are mine and I'll be happy if anyone wants to Beta read.

**Fandom**: Supernatural

**Pairings/Characters**: Sam/Dean, Lucifer, OCs

**Rating**: PG - 13

**Word**: 2,800

**Kink**: Angst/schmoop/humour, touching, neediness, PDA.

**Warning**: violence

**Notes**: Sorry for the long delay. I've been busy with other fics including the samdean_otp minibang and RBB. I've written few stories with J2 but haven't post it here because I'm thinking this site is only for TV characters not RPF. So, if you wanna read those please visit my journal. ( you can find the address at my profile )

Just open my masterlist you'll find a bunch of RPS ranging from a/b/o, werewolf, mpreg(yes, I wrote those), Non-AU, etc.

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**It happened before, this so called misery shaped hole**

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"Sam, what the hell?" Dean bursts through the motel room door and throws his duffel on one of the beds before rounding up to face Sam who walks more slowly into the room. "Are you saying that this … this madness is because of me?"

"Well, not exactly. But-"

"But it is because of me."

"No, Dean! It's not you, it's me. I'm the one who let him in and now he's scrambling my brain and I don't know how to make it stop."

Sam slumps over on one of the bed, the one without Dean's duffel on it and rubs his face with his palms before propping his elbows on his thighs, face still hidden behind his hands. Sam has told Dean about Lucifer and his sizzling hell fire that seems to follow Sam whenever he goes. No matter what Sam does he won't go away and the hand trick does not work anymore. Dean gathers from the little that his brother told him during their temporary rendezvous at the side road few miles from the motel that Sam has been ignoring the Devil's presence for months now, never engaging his taunts and has been able to shoo away any disturbing images the hallucination brings. Except when Dean's live is in danger. Granted, Dean is never there when that happens but he can remember how frantic Sam has been the few times Dean is almost getting killed. He usually just chalks it up as Sam being his usual bitchy self but maybe there is more serious matter underneath that.

Now, when the breaking point has been breached, there seems to be very limited way for Sam to hold the hell memories at bay.

"And what's the deal with the hand holding thing, anyway?" asks Dean before muttering, "God, It sounds like a cheesy flick," under his breath with a roll of his eyes.

Sam puts down his hands on his lap but avoids Dean's eyes. He keeps his gaze low on the floor and shrugs.

"So?" Dean continues, "you spent every ten minutes or so of our ride here subtly trying to hold my hand …and, and, this morning I believe you held my hand the whole time I was sleeping? … I mean … even if I'm not all yay about the hippie thing but please don't think I'm that stupid or ignorant. I notice things, especially if it's about you. Now spill!"

Sam looks up and meets Dean's eyes. Dean is standing in front of him now, hands folded in front of his chest, eyes hard and demanding. Sam knows he cannot afford to keep it from Dean for much longer because this thing inside his head, this madness is getting harder to control and he knows that sooner or later Dean is bound to know. He takes a deep breath and let it out slowly in a shaky sigh. He avoids looking at his brother's face, afraid of his judgment that he will see there, so fixes his attention on Dean's shoes instead.

Sam always knows that he is a freak. Maybe he was not as accepting as he is now when he was a kid, always running away from his family looking for normal. Neither did he knows that he is the freak all along, what's with the demon blood and psychic power, their family just ride along with it, making the best out of the situation, especially Dean. Yet, despite all that, it is still hurt when Dean thinks of him that way. He cannot control what he is and he just wishes that Dean will stop throwing that on his face every time he does something weird. Of all people, Sam really craves of Dean's acceptance. He already has Dean's unconditional brotherly love but let's just say that Sam is greedy. Well, can anyone blame him?

"It's … when I touch you … seems to go away," explains Sam carefully in a very low voice like he hopes Dean does not hear it but of course he is wrong. Dean has a kind of super hearing when it comes to him anyway. He seems to be able to hear what Sam does not want to say even if Sam does not say it out loud.

"Excuse me?" Dean blinks once and raises his eyebrows.

"It's-"

"No, no, … yeah, I get it but … what the hell? I mean, why?"

Dean's countenance falters. It is comical the way his face twists up in a befuddled expression as his hands spread low in front of him and his body tensed. Sam chances a look at his brother's face in a split second before averting his gaze downward, ready for a blow by blow from his brother. Dean tends to be defensive when he is nervous and out of his element. Everything he says stems from self defense not unlike his bravado crap and cocky smirk bullshit but he never means it. Sam knows Dean never means it but it still stings.

"I'm not sure," Sam whispers.

Dean closes his eyes for a moment feeling like he is thrown into a twilight zone. The last year mishap when they were thrown into a TV land meeting their pseudo self feels nothing compare to this. It really sounds like one of Lisa's bad romance novel that she always read before bedtime. He is aware that their life is weird. There are all kinds of weird up their alley. It is kind of in the job description actually but this? He begins to wonder that Sam is pulling his leg. Perhaps he is so pissed at him because of his annoying habit and jackass attitude lately.

"Well, I'll … I'll get something to eat," says Dean finally, trying to break the suddenly awkward moment between them. He scratch his head as he looks around the room, stalling. "You want anything?"

Sam is fidgeting nervously on the bed with eyes still focused downward. He fiddles with his fingers for few seconds before tentatively reaching them out at Dean. Dean eyebrows rise so high nearly touching his hairline as he stares at Sam's outstretched hand.

"Seriously?" asks Dean, looking at his brother with a disbelieve expression painted clearly his face. Sam's hand is frozen in the air. His other hand squeezes the mattress so hard that he almost rip it off.

Dean cannot see Sam's face as his little brother stubbornly keeps his face down but he recognizes the symptoms already. Even after only a couple of times that it happens before his eyes, he starts to see the pattern now when Sam's defenses or what is left of it crumbles down; the agitation, the irregular breathing, the manic frightened eyes, the tense muscles. It will be soon before the incident in the previous motel or in the car to happen again.

There is tremor runs through Sam's body. Sam is trying to hold it back and curve it but some of it still trembles through his arms and Dean sees that.

"Ughh… for the sake of …"

Dean snatches Sam's retreating hand before his brother takes it back to his lap to wallow miserably in silence. Dean has had enough of that. Secret never ends well in their family's history. All of those crazy things happened back then mostly because there were too many secrets between them. Mom's secret deal, Dad's secrets… everything, the man had lots of them that put titanic iceberg to shame honestly and not to mention Sam's secret. His little brother really is a bitch in keeping secret. So now, no matter how bad it is, Dean wants to know all of them and become unreceptive of Sam's pain is not the way to gain Sam's trust to open up to him.

As their hands touch, Sam's quickly latches on it putting his other hand on top of Dean's and hold it fast as if he would fall down back to hell if he does not do it. Perhaps he really would, in his head at least. Dean lets his brother take as much comfort as he need before telling him to rest as he goes out to buy some coffee and food for them. He promises to return soon after gaining Sam's assurance that he will be okay for the next fifteen minutes.

o

Sammy wakes up suddenly. There is a tap-tap-tap sound on the window across his bed that sounds really scary. Sammy's heart beats faster and faster and his breath is quickening as the tap-tap-tap sound seems to get louder and fills the room. He looks to his right and sees his brother's back half covered under the blanket. He scoots to his brother's side of the bed and shakes his shoulder. "Dean … Dean wake up," whispers Sammy tearfully. "I think the mummy's coming get me. He's outside window. Dean…"

Then, a very loud trapping sound from the window makes Sammy jumps up in surprise and he starts to whimper, his lower lips trembles and his eyes watery. He shakes his brother's shoulder harder as his eyes glued to the dark skeleton like hand shadow on the window's curtain. Dean wipes his eyes blearily as he looks over his shoulder to see his baby brother of four years old crying behind him. "Whas'it Sammy?"

"Hiks … Dean…" Sammy's little hand trembled when he points his trembling finger at the window where the skeleton-like hand makes random tapping sound on the window.

"Huh?" says Sammy's big brother articulately. He is still half awake but he rubs his eyes and swings his feet off the bed anyway, intent to investigate the shadowy entity on the window.

Sammy hides his face on his brother's back and wraps his little arms around Dean's torso. "No, Dean! He's gets you too!"

"It's ok, Sammy. He won't get me. I promise!"

Dean entangles his brother's arms from his body then reaches under his pillow for his pocket knife, a birthday presents from his dad, and a shotgun beside the bed. He slips the knife between his waistbands and holds up the shotgun with both hands before taking careful steps towards the window, hands steady.

They are currently staying in a rent house for a few months already and their father has left this morning promising to return the next day. The shadow at the window seems to be getting bigger and longer as Dean reaches the middle of the room. He hears Sammy frightened gasps as the shadow made another loud knock on the glass window. In a split second, he remembers the incident few months back when their father was hunting a sthriga. The son of a bitch almost got Sammy at the time and Dean vowed that he will kill it the next time he sees it. Perhaps the sthriga has come for its unfinished business. Well, Dean is sure to finish it off this time.

When he stands near the window, his shotgun's muzzle touching the curtain, he realizes that something doesn't add up. The shadow seems to sway unsteadily outside the window making its shadowy image contorted in a weird looking way. Dean frowns. He glances at the unbroken salt line on the windowsill before reaching for his pocket knife. He balance the shotgun in one hand by pressing the handle on his chest for leverage as he fishes his pocket knife from his waistband. He clicks the knife open and in a quick slash pushes aside the curtain to reveal tree branches knocking on the glass window as it is swayed by the wind. Dean takes a relieved sigh which accompanied by an eye roll for the silliness.

"It's okay, Sammy. Just tree branches," Dean calls out to his little brother. He takes down his shotgun and lines it up against the wall under the window frame before opening the lock and lifting the sliding up. He takes a handful of the tree branches and cuts them off with his knife before closing and locking it back. He checks the salt line for few seconds before snatching back his shotgun and returning to bed. Sammy looks up hopefully at him.

"Go back to sleep, squirt," Dean tells his little brother. He puts back his knife under his pillow and arranging his shotgun under the bed as Sammy looks back at the window, now devoid of wickedly shadow.

"No mummies?" asks little Sammy in a whispery voice.

"No," answers Dean as he climbs back to bed shoving Sammy off his side of the bed but his little brother springs back and latches his arms around him as he settles on bed.

"It was scary Dean," whimpers as he burrows his face on Dean's chest.

"Freak! You're such a crybaby and a burden."

Sammy looks up with a pained expression on his chubby face. "Why d'you say that?"

"Because that's what you are! I never ask for a little brother like you. You're just a burden for everybody. I hope you're never been born and spare us all the misery that you caused!"

Dean shoved Sammy off him then jumps off the bed, a cruel and sinister smirk on his face. Sammy is crying now. He is shocked that his big brother, the only person that Sammy adores and worships above all else even slightly above his daddy, says those evil words at him. He cries out at Dean and lifts up his arms reaching for his big brother but Dean just steps further back with a mocking laughter ringing in Sammy's ears.

"You deserve in hell, Sammy!" shouts Dean, eyes full of hatred towards his little brother.

As if on cue, the bed starts to catch fire. It is starting from the foot of the bed and quickly spread around trapping Sammy in it. The little boy is screaming and crying for his brother both hands reaching out to beg for help but Dean is just laughing at him.

"Deeeeeeannnnnn…"

The fire catches up to Sammy's outstretched hands and runs along his skinny arms. He screams and screams but his voice is unheard among the crackles of fire around him. The fire is eating up his body and licking his face. Pain like he never felt before wracking his nerve endings and overloading his brain with jolts of electroshock until it also burned out. The room is reshaping into a hook filled cage and the bed grows chain-like tentacles that shackle his limbs, trapping him to the burning bed.

The door to the motel room opens suddenly and Dean is running in. He is immediately beside Sam's bed wrapping his palms around Sam's face, calling out his name over and over. But Sam is long gone, trapped in the throes of his memories. His body has gone rigid with limbs that are spread over the bed and all his muscles nearly popping out of his skin. His screaming has not abated ever since Dean entered the room and it has gone ten minutes since then.

"Sam, please … please … Sammy…"

Dean's voice trembles. He feels so lost that he is willing to do anything to get his brother out of his suffering. After all, he sold his soul for his brother. What more could be worse than that? He is at the last of his rope. Dean does not want to believe Sam's confessions earlier about the way his touch seems to ground Sam and keep him in coherence. Not because he is disgusted over the touching but merely because he does not have that much opinion about himself. He does not have a healing power like the angels nor does he have empathy. He is just Dean, Sam's big brother. Nothing more. Even he is suck at it, in his opinion. How many times he let his brother died or in danger of dying? He let Sam got seduced by a demon, got addicted by demon's blood, went to hell and now this suffering is somehow because of him. He does nothing but ruin everything in his wake. Trailing pain and misery everywhere he goes and worse, he drags his little brother with him just because he does not want to be alone. Dean is always a firm believer that he deserves hell … but not Sam. No, not Sam. Not his little brother.

There is no one to ask for help, no guidance, and no nothing. There is nothing left to do but to heave Sam's stiff body and hold him in his arms. Dean hugs Sam close to him, buries Sam's face in his neck to dampen his unrelenting screaming and grip him tight with one hand around his shoulder and fingers in his hair. Then, he starts rocking. A swaying motion that starts small, just a small movement to the left and right followed by a humming. At first, the tone is random. Then, Dean remembers _Hey Jude_. It has been a very long time since the last time he sang that song to a sleepy Sammy.

Dean does not count the time but after a while Sam's muscles gradually loosens. His screaming is reduced to raspy whimpers and ragged breathing. It feels like years before Sam's arms slowly wound around Dean's back, holding as tight and as desperate as Dean holds him.

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Please tell me what you think. You know that review is the other word for love, right? :-D


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